Text. Mid BJ. 8 points.
You need to come back and get me. This is not a jersey shore party and he is not dressed as Pauly D and I am about one shot away from hooking up with a real fist pumping Guido.
No driving. The car is spinning. I am praying for mcdonalds.
I just pulled a handful of rice out of my pocket.
I can't remember where my feet are. All I can see are colors, and all I can feel is terror. The lollipop was a bad idea.
But I was triple fisting doubles, that's bound to be a good time. Might have a broken collarbone though.
i feel like i should invite him over so he can cockblock my roommate one last time before he graduates. for old times sake, ya know
He followed me on twitter after I posted a drunk screen shot of a tweet. It's like he gave me permission to stalk him on a whole different level.
You FaceTimed your mom in the back of the limo telling her how many guys you hooked up with at the concert
I got with a bridesmaid and a server as well as put an $80 tab in rum and coke under the name Emerson Iglesias. Are you sure it wasn't my wedding?
I don't give a shit if you judge. This isn't about you or anyone else. This is about me and my chicken tenders.
I find him attractive in the absolute weirdest way. Like I need him to do my taxes, but I also feel like I should spill things on him to gain his attention and then lick it off to gain his affection.
It's barely past noon, how am I already talking about double penetration
My history professo slid into my DMs. Granted I did give him “fuck me” eyes during a lecture a few times.
I may or may not have puked near a bear on the side of the road this morning.
Randomize